


Final Day

by CheshireChett



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Cancer, Death, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireChett/pseuds/CheshireChett
Summary: Quirin comforts Varian as he breathes his last.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 81





	Final Day

Quirin glanced into Varian’s room. He could hear the rattled breathing coming from his son as he held on to the last of his life. For the past week, Varian had been refusing to eat or drink anything. A painful reminder that his final day is coming. 10 years... all for nothing. They were fortunate enough to not have to pay a single penny on treatment, but even then, chemotherapy was no hayride. For either of them. 

Quirin took a breath and pushed the door open, stepping inside. He made his way to Varian’s bed and pulled up a chair. As he sat down, Varian’s eyes opened. He stared at Quirin, his eyes nearly glazed over. Quirin smiled. 

“It’s Dad, Varian. Good morning.” He reached over and caressed Varian’s cool hand. Varian made a poor attempt to squeeze Quirin’s hand. 

“Morning, Dad.” he whispered back. The morning light showed how pale and frail Varian had gotten, and it broke Quirin’s heart even more. 

“How’re you feeling?”

Varian didn’t answer. He’s just stared past him, observing something Quirin likely couldn’t see. 

“Varian?” 

Varian’s eyes shifted back to Quirin. 

“How are you feeling?”

Varian stayed silent for a moment longer. 

“Cold.”

Quirin nodded. “Would you like more blankets?”

Varian managed a nod, and Quirin stood, heading over to the closet. He retrieved a couple of blankets and unfolded them, gently laying them down on his son. 

“Dad?”

“Yes, Varian?”

Varian hesitated for a moment as his dad sat back down.

“You’ve been so good to me. I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you. You were only trying to look after me. Always making sure I got the best treatment to get better.” Tears formed in Varian’s eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get better, Dad.”

Quirin shook his head, tears pricking at his own eyes. 

“Don’t apologise for anything, Varian. Your outbursts were only due to your frustration and the misery the chemo brought you. And it’s not your fault for not getting better. The leukemia got stronger than the chemo. There is no way you could have caused it.”

Varian stared up at his father. Slowly, he reached out his hand to Quirin. Quirin gently took it and held it between his own two hands. Varian’s cold skin seeped into his warm palms. He gave his son’s hands an attentive kiss. 

“I love you, Dad.”

Quirin could feel a lump forming in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow it down.

“I love you, too, Varian.”

Varian smiled weakly before closing his eyes. Quirin listened as Varian’s rattled breathing slowed and became less often. Every time he thinks it finally happened, Varian takes in another breath. Every day for this entire month he had observed Varian’s decrease in eating and drinking and his increase in sleeping. Sometimes he’d get agitated, other times he’d just sit and stay silent. Quirin thought back to all the times they spent together, travelling and checking things off Varian’s bucket list. 

Varian had accepted he’s dying long before Quirin did. Part of him was angry that his son had given up so easily. Varian was always so stubborn, much like his mother. It still makes his gut wrench to think about when he saw Varian planning his own funeral. _It’s not something a 15-year-old should be doing._

“Dad?”

Varian’s small, raspy voice pulled Quirin out of his thoughts. 

“I’m here, son.”

“Why’d you stop holding my hand?”

Quirin looked down at his hands, which still held Varian’s. 

“I didn’t.”

A look of confusion passed Varian’s face. 

“But...I can’t feel it.”

Quirin took in a breath and reached over to stroke Varian’s hair, keeping his other hand clasped around Varian’s hand.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Varian. I’m here, even if you can’t feel me.”

Varian visibly relaxed. His slow and shallow breathing became the only sound in the room once more. Quirin continued to stroke Varian’s hair, more of an assurance to himself now than for Varian. 

. . .

Varian hadn’t taken a breath for a couple of minutes.

“Varian?”

Varian made no sign of hearing him. Quirin moved his hand back to Varian’s.

“Varian?” His voice wavered. 

Nothing. The lump in his throat grew larger, and tears once again threatened to fall. He stood and bent over Varian, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“Goodbye, Varian.”

With one last stroke of his son’s hair, Quirin turned and went out of the room. He closed the door behind him, and the tears finally fell. With his back against the door, Quirin slid down to the floor and wailed. 


End file.
